


Softer Yet Softer

by Relvich



Series: The Blue 'Verse [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst?, Drarry Hell Secret Santa, How Do I Tag This, I sure don't - Freeform, M/M, Softness, after-effects of the war, both maybe, fluff?, one or the other, soft, they don't yet know they're in love, they know they like each other very much, uh, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:22:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9069367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Relvich/pseuds/Relvich
Summary: Who knew that war could make a person soft?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BluepPenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluepPenguin/gifts).



> There's feels ahead Blue. Maybe one sentence of angst? I don't even know.  
> I tried. Fluff is hard

Harry was softer, after the war. In some ways, at least. In others, he was even sharper, sterner.

But towards Draco he was definitely softer. That was for sure.

This fact hadn’t really even occurred to Draco until _months_ after the end of the war. Which was strange, because he noticed the new softness Harry held _before_ that moment: he was multitudes quieter now, for instance, and he got lost in his thoughts more often (this was a _very_ common occurrence). He was a lot less brash, too, and he kept his feelings hidden much of the time, unless he was happy or alone with Granger. (Draco was not jealous, he was _not_ ). He was more like a candle flame as compared to the bonfire he had been before (and Draco _did not just think of Fiendfyre, holding close to Potter as he flew away from burning flesh, oh god—)_  

 While Draco had noticed these things, he hadn’t noticed the hero’s softening towards Draco. He reckons this is because it was so unexpected, so extraordinary, that the Boy Who Lived would even think of forgiving _him,_ son of a Death Eater and a Death Eater himself. So no, he didn’t notice the softness Harry held towards him for some time. When it finally happened, he and Harry weren’t dating yet, but the thoughts were there. (Who was he kidding, the thoughts had been there since fourth year at the _least,_ but that was beside the point.)

It had been back when they were returned to Hogwarts for their eighth year. It almost hadn’t happened at all, as he had heard that Potter and his two best friends had been offered spots in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as Aurors. But Harry and Granger refused, so it did.

(It was considered an incredible honor to be offered such prestigious positions, especially considering all three of them hadn’t finished their schooling. No, they had finished the Wizarding War instead, and Draco supposes that’s just as good as all O’s on the N.E.W.T.’s.)

(Draco privately believed that the Aurors should’ve been honored to have Harry in their ranks, not the other way ‘round. But he hadn’t even accepted the invitation, so why waste time thinking on the matter?)

According to hearsay, Granger and Potter returned to take their tests. According to Draco and the tired looks in the duo’s eyes, they returned to be _themselves_ again, instead of child soldiers in a war. Draco refused to let himself think that their reasons for returning and his were very much similar, but he thought it anyway, and so they became friendly rather quickly for people who used to hate each other.

Well, _supposedly_ they used to hate each other. But anyway, he’d gotten rather off-track, so he turned his focus back to his original point.

Draco realizes that Harry is much softer towards him one night in the Slytherin dorms during their eighth year. He may have mentioned to their motley friend group (Harry, Luna, Neville, and Gr- Hermione to be exact) earlier on in the day that the room was a lot emptier now that he was the only one in it. He definitely didn’t mention that the emptiness made him think of his old home, locking himself in his room while Death Eaters performed all sorts of tortures in the rooms below. Those were the sorts of things people didn’t speak of, but this quieter Harry perceived them clear as a bell, his eyes portraying understanding even when Draco said nothing at all. It was on this night that Draco realized how soft Harry was toward him, because on this night Harry snuck into the Slytherin dorms to lie with him to sleep.

_“Heya, Drake.” Draco jumped, cursing, until he saw Harry’s floating severed head just to the left of his bed. He was grinning._

_“Merlin— what the actual hell, Potter? How the fuck did you get in here? And what did you just call me?”_

_“Apparently the Slytherin dorms open to Parseltongue, did you know? Also, I called you Drake, Drake.” His grin was wide, and it reminded Draco of a pleased child. He had to hold back a smile of his own._

_“Drake? I don’t recall ever giving you my express permission to call me by my_ given _name, Potter, and you’re making_ nicknames?” _The sentence held no bite, the two had been calling each other their first names all semester. It resembled the banter of… friends._

_“Well, there’s the loophole. It’s not your given name, now is it.” Harry smirked, threw off his invisibility cloak, looking for all the world like he belonged in the Slytherin rooms after all. Draco let out a surprised huff of a laugh, and Harry took this as a victory._

_“Move over.” Harry said. It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t a statement or an order, and he spoke with a small voice that Draco could hardly believe had been used in heat of battle._

_“Um, why? Trying to get into my bed so soon, eh Potter?”_

_He masked his nervousness and his feelings for the boy in front of him with bravado as he always had, and it was almost comforting._

_“Oh shut it, git.” Harry pushed him so that there was room enough for him on the Dragon’s bed, and he sat. Silence for a few moments, but then—_

_“You just don’t need to be alone, anymore, is all.” Draco swore he heard him mumble ‘and neither do I’, but he said nothing, only nodding, as something was making short work of closing up his throat._

_It wasn’t tears. It wasn’t._

And he realized that maybe, just maybe, Draco had grown softer towards Harry, too.


End file.
